


Flowers and Leather

by Plutonic_5



Series: Let Me Take You On A Ride [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Allergies, Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anti needs to take care of himself more, Anxiety, Boys Kissing, Fainting, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff, Fondling, Implied Past Abuse, M/M, Mild Dehydration, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plants, Public Blow Jobs, Sexual Content, Sleep Deprivation, Triggers, Vandalism, flower shop, stay hydrated kids, they're nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plutonic_5/pseuds/Plutonic_5
Summary: "It had been a few weeks since their first alley encounter. Both bikers would bicker and curse at each other through the nights among their respective gangs, then take the issues by their own hands and end up making out in some random dark corner. "





	Flowers and Leather

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a while but it's finally here! The continuation of mine and [Trashcansasha's](http://trashcansasha.tumblr.com) biker!AU
> 
> Have fun!

It had been a few weeks since their first alley encounter. Both bikers would bicker and curse at each other through the nights among their respective gangs, then take the issues by their own hands and end up making out in some random dark corner. The “issues” weren’t even that critical; Anti’s gang would just spray graffiti on the neighbourhood walls and maybe smash some drink bottles on the pavement. Truth is, they could make a lot of damage if they wanted to, and they did, at first, but now their “leader” was fooling around with the Patrol’s gang boss, so they kept it all fairly civil.

Anti’s group didn’t actually know both men were fondling on dark alleys after punching each other’s noses, but they knew that that was a mutual respect going on between them, for some reason, and that was all the needed to know, really.

The green-haired man was riding his motorcycle down the empty streets one night, going back to his place just out of town, as he deliberated. His body was quite sore from being tossled against brick walls, but he wouldn’t complain. That was their thing, and he was pretty content with the daily violence as a way to relieve all the pent-up aggression in him. Kissing hurt as all hell at first, too, since Jack almost ripped his lip ring out with that first punch, causing Anti to take it out for a while.  _ Asshole _ , he thinks, and smiles to himself,  _ at least my septum one is still there. Mostly. _

He was so lost in thought that didn’t even see a figure walking across his path, making a harsh break and colliding his bike to a wall. Thankfully, his speed had decreased enough so the collision didn’t break anything – the wall, the bike, or Anti’s bones. He climbed out of the vehicle with a grunt.

“Dude, do you even  _ know _ how to ride a bike?” a voice exclaimed, one that he knew all too well by now. He smirked. 

“Got distracted,” Anti shrugged. 

“You almost ran me over!”

“But I didn’t.”

He looked up to meet Jack’s gaze. He looked a bit worn out, hair filled with little…Leaves? And his jacket had a strong scent that he couldn’t decipher. His nose twitched.

“Did you get out of a bush or something?” he asked. The brown-haired man seemed confused for a second before he looked up and self-consciously ran a hand through the mess.

“Long day at work,” he vaguely replied whilst stepping closer. Anti hummed and raised his hands to Jack’s hips, bringing them together. “No sassing today? I’m almost disappointed.”

“You can file a complaint later,” Anti muttered close to his lips with half-lidded eyes. 

“What, did you miss me?” Jack joked, with a very smug grin.

“Long day at work,” he parroted.

“Do you actually have a job?”

“Nope,” a pause. They break into a fit of giggles before fully connecting their lips.

The kiss is slow, this time. There was no fighting for it, no bloody tongues, not even a purple eye or the risk of a mild concussion. It was strange, but none of them objected. Maybe they were both just tired. 

Anti’s hands lowered down exploring Jack’s hips, and stilled in his ass, giving him a firm squeeze. Jack let’s out a faint sound against his lips and grabs his green locks a bit more tightly. The kiss turns heated, the green-haired man switches sides and guides their bodies backwards so he’s pressing the other man against the wall he’d just collided with. He moves his lips to Jack's neck. Jack rewards him a pleased hum, tilting his head to give him more access. Anti's warm fingers had moved up and gone just under the brown-haired man's shirt when they heard a rustling noise coming near.

“Jack?” a voice called out, “are you there?”

“Shit,” Jack whispered with a giggle. They parted quickly, and as he straightened his clothes, a figure shows up through the shadows. 

“Jack? What are you doing here? You should had been home by now!” the silhouette walked under the yellow light post. It was a man with blue eyes and short light brown hair, almost a  reddish colour, his eyebrows and facial hair a lighter shade. He had broader shoulders than him or Jack, body language showed no signs of danger.

“Yes,  _ mom _ ,” Jack sighed, then grinned. “I was just having a friendly chat.”

“I’m not sure if that involves bloody noses or bloody hickeys.” 

“Both,” they muttered at the same time. Then broke down laughing. The stranger rolled his eyes with crossed arms, but had a hint of a small smile on his face.

“I don’t see any blood this time,” the man muses.

“The  _ edgelord _ was being a softie,” Jack whispered loudly, as if it was a secret. Anti rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were getting warmer by the second. 

A moment of silence. Then, Anti cleared his throat and looked back and forth between Jack and the stranger.

“Oh, yeah!” Jack clicked, “this is Robin. He’s part of the Patrol. You just can never see him properly because he’s always wearing sunglasses. At night. Like a total nerd.” 

The man—Robin, sizes him with his eyes, which makes Anti’s defensive stance tougher, and he seems to notice that. 

“It makes me look scarier.” Robin shrugs. “so, are you guys dating already? That was fast, even for Jack.” 

Anti's blush deepens. “We’re  _ not _ dating.”

“Oh really?” the guy muses again, “that’s convenient, because I was actually about to ask Jack out.”

“You can’t!” the green-haired man blurted, before he could catch himself. Jack seemed very amused at the scene.

“And why's that?” Robin asked, smugly. His lips curved in a taunting grin.

“I—Uh...” he stuttered, his blush going all the way to his freckled ears, over his neck, his forehead. He was red as a tomato, and he hated it.

Jack decided to end his misery with a giggle.

“He’s just messin' with you,” the brown-haired man said, and added in another loud whisper, “ _ he’s an asshole. _ ” 

Anti giggled at that, but then cut himself off with a cough to maintain what was left of his dignity. Robin huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes again.

“Whatever, love birds. Jack, you gotta go home, quit snogging the punk guy.”

“I think I’m good staying right here, thank you very much,” Jack stated, running a finger along Anti's jacket, and he couldn’t do anything about it even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.  _ Fuck _ . 

“You have to open the shop tomorrow,” Robin countered, receiving a loud annoyed groan in response.

“Fine,” he sighed, “see you tomorrow,” and winked. Jack and Robin both went their way, and Anti was left embarrassed, cold, and very confused. 

 

The next day, Anti found himself wandering across the little town streets when the sun was still up in the sky, which was odd for him. He usually just came here with the  _ Pack _ —his gang, to make some mischief and, recently, more frequently than not, to mess around with Jack.

_ Jack _ .  _ What was up with that guy, anyway?  _ He thought. He was definitely one of the most handsome guys he’s seen in a while, that’s for sure; strong build, pale skin, the most entrancing blue eyes. He looked like an angel that would punch you in the face just because he could. 

But Jack was also...  _ fun _ . After some time of pushing his buttons until he kissed him, he started to just chat. Talk about the day, ask Anti mundane questions. It was so strange, bizarre even, that anyone would actually be interested on who he is, what he does. Anti got in for a good sexual tension relief, maybe a good fuck later, but the both of them were starting to become...  _ friends _ ? That was a weird thought. Maybe Anti hadn’t got laid in a while, and was imagining things.

The thing is, the brown-haired man knew who Anti was from the get go. The Pack was a worldwide known gang, a feared one, since the  _ last leader _ . When Anti got in charge, the world already knew who he was, they just didn’t think he’d get...  _ promoted _ . The Patrol even got on their way a few times, but opted for keeping their distance. When the Pack got in this town, they must have gone onto full blown panic. They were lucky Anti didn’t care much about the town itself, just about getting on with their sassy boss. 

_ How much does Jack know? _ He asked himself,  _ does he want something from me? _

“Hey, lover boy!” Anti looked up from the spot he was blankly staring at. The voice came from the same guy he saw the night before, though he looked a lot different.

His hair wasn’t nearly as neat as before, and his clothes were casual to downright laid-back, with a loose grey shirt and blue jeans. He was wearing eyeglasses, standing inside a workshop, holding something— pieces of tech junk, it seemed.

“Are you done staring at nothing in front of my shop, like a total weirdo?”

Anti flushes from embarrassment; he didn’t know he was being watched. He must have looked so stupid.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, already turning back to leave. Robin raises his eyebrows, as if not expecting the reaction.

“Dude, it’s all fine. But, uh, do you want anything?” the man asked hesitantly.

Anti paused. Did he want anything? Why was he here again? 

Robin studied his confused expression, then smirked, “You know, Jack’s shop is right across the street on your left.”

The green-haired man scowls. “And why would I care?”

“I’m just saying,” the man said, nonchalant as ever, as he turned back to a desk in the middle of the workshop and started to fiddle with the mechanic bits he had in hands.

Anti watched him for a few seconds, stepping forward in the street, then turned left. 

What he found across the street was utterly baffling. A tiny, but charming flower shop, with a big glass window in the front and all kinds of plants decorating the outside, where in the middle there was a simple metal table with two chairs and a vase at the centre. The second floor was embellished with a classy roof, protecting a tiny balcony. The place was, well, lovely, but what discomposed him was the person he saw on the other side of the glass.

Wearing pastel green overalls, with the logo of the shop on the front and a white shirt beneath it, beefy arms showing off a big tattoo peaking out of his short sleeves of heavy roses inked probably across his entire shoulder, and hair combed back neatly, there stood Jack, the Patrol's boss. The same guy who almost broke his nose, and made out with him for weeks on dirty alleys, was just standing there, as a complete pastel magazine cover icon. 

“You know, you should go and say hi,” Anti yelped at the sudden voice behind him.

“ _ Fuck _ , stop doing that,” the green-haired man panted, an inch from losing his shit right there. He turned his head and glared at the man behind him.

“I’m just saying,” Robin sang, walking back from wherever the hell he came from.  _ What was up with that guy?! _

“Stop following me!” Anti shouted at him, but the man was already gone. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Jack was looking at him. 

_ Oh, God _ .

His lips were parted, eyebrows deep in a frown. The customer he was talking to called his attention, and the brown-haired man's cheeks turned pink, while he apologized and went back to work. Anti held in a laugh. 

_ Well, what now?  _ He questioned himself. It’s not like he was going to go in, that’d be ridiculous. 

_ “You should go and say hi” _ , Robin's voice echoed in his head. He shouldn’t. They didn’t have anything with each other. They were just...  _.making-out buddies. Yeah _ . Or punching bag buddies, that occasionally grabbed each other in more than friendly ways. 

_ Ah, fuck it. _

The green-haired man fixed his posture; head down, hands on his jacket’s pockets. Usually he’d go for puffing his chest, hold his chin high, but truth was, he was incredibly out of place here. Putting on the mighty “Street Persona” wasn’t going to help.

He stepped into the shop, a little bell above the door warning his arrival. For a second, he just stood there, taking in the picture. The place was... green. Very green. All walls were covered in different vines, flowers, little hanged vases. The floor was clear, but all corners of the place had bigger plants in heavy vessels, and the windowsill of the big, sole glass window was filled with tiny cacti, which Anti found himself particularly fond of. He always loved cacti.

On the ceiling, there were tiny plant pots hanging down on metal hooks and strings that enveloped them nicely, almost if shaped by hand. They probably were, come to think of it. Everything here had a handmade, cosy feel. There was a staircase leading upwards, probably to the second floor were that balcony was located, and a shelf full of packs of soil, diverse seeds and natural fertilizer. The place smelled strongly of different flower scents, of course, even with the window open, which made Anti’s nose twitch. That must’ve been why Jack reeked of plants the night before.

Then again, Anti was a pretty allergic person when it came to pollen. His nose should be turning red and stuffy pretty soon. That’d be embarrassing.

A clearing of throat snapped his attention.

“Are you planning on vandalizing my shop? Because I’ll protect these plants with my life,” Jack said in a serious tone, but his lips were curled in a shy smile. 

“There goes my evening plans,” Anti said, deadpan. 

“I’m serious, I’d fight you for a single flower petal.” 

“That’s just you enjoying kicking my ass,” the green-haired man smirked.

“That’s a good point.”

“I happen to have those, sometimes.”

“Do you want a houseplant?” Jack asked.

“What?”

“A houseplant. Or a bouquet, even though I’d recommend getting a vase instead.”

“Why?”

“Because when you pick up flowers to make a bouquet, you’re killing them by cutting off their roots. They can’t absorb water anymore, and in just a matter of days, they’ll be dead.”

“Wow, morbid,” Anti said. And he was genuinely surprised, too.

“Takes out the romantic feel of it, doesn’t it?”

“I dunno, some people like creepy stuff.”

Jack studied his face for a moment. 

“I feel like you want to ask me something,”

“How perceptive of you,” Anti deadpanned, “I’m just a bit... surprised.”

Jack gestured with his hands,  _ go on _ .

“You’re the boss of a biker's gang that protects the whole neighbourhood at night, and a  _ florist _ at daytime? Really?”

Jack smirked. “I have layers.” 

The green-haired man huffed, shaking his head.   _ Unbelievable _ .

“Gotta give all that leather and heavy boots a break,” he seized Anti up and down, “is your wardrobe a portal for emo Narnia or something?”

“You dress just like me at night time!”

“But I have variety.”

Anti rolls his eyes. His gaze travelled across Jack's face, his sharp jaw, pale neck. His skin looked far too thin there, like one single nip would break it. His shirt and overalls didn’t leave much to show off, but his roses tattoo peeking out his sleeve held all kinds of secrets.

“Dude,” Jack giggled. 

_ Oh God, was I staring? _

“What,” he said, dumbly.

“You’re in a flower shop, not a museum. Do you want anything? I got shit to do, you know,” the florist accused, smug grin never leaving his face. 

“I want...” What  _ did _ he want? “...a flower. That means... something new. A new beginning.”

Jack's eyes brightened up. “Oh! I have a few options!” he chirped, suddenly way more excited than he was. 

The brown-haired man fumbled under his cashier balcony muttering to himself, then set a tiny vase full of white flowers right under Anti's nose.

_ Oh, no. _

He sneezed once. Then twice. And before he could properly be embarrassed about it, he was stuck in a sneezing fit, eyes and nose turning red almost instantly. Jack's eyes widened.

“Oh, my! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were allergic, I should’ve asked!” he apologized, seeming sincerely regretful whilst putting the vase under the balcony again.

After a few more sneezes and some desperate nose scratching, Anti composed himself again with a small gasp.  _ Daisies _ . The last time someone came near him with daisies he was... somewhere that smelled mostly like cologne, and cigarettes.

_ “Why is he sneezing so much?” The business man had asked. _

_ The pitch black-haired man had looked down at him then over the guest. “It’s the flower. I’ll ask you to get rid of it.” _

_ “That’s absurd, he should just leave the office.” _

_ “What he should or shouldn’t do is of my concern only. I’d advice you to not upset him further.” _

“Anti?” Jack's touch on his shoulder startled him back to the present, his blue eyes full of concern. “I said, are you okay?”

Anti blinked hard, shaking his head a little. Where had  _ that _ memory come from? He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Um. Do you have something that’s not daisies? Or that doesn’t have...uh... much pollen?”

“Yeah, of course,” the florist removed his touch and hesitantly looked around for another kind of flower. 

_ Great one, Anti. Now he thinks you’re a weirdo.  _ The green-haired man sighs and glares at himself. Jack sets another vase of flowers in front of him, they were also white, and resembled a tiny cup made of petals.

“ _ Calla Lilies _ . They shouldn’t give you much trouble,” Jack offered with a smile. Anti nodded with a weak grin, and paid for the plant.

He didn’t even know where he’d put said plant, but it wasn’t like he could just enter a flower shop and say, “ _ oh hey, I was just curious on why the hell you looked all cute through the glass, and your friend suggested I said hi. _ ”

Jack was looking at him with an inquisitive expression. Anti swallowed. 

“Uh, I’m just gonna...” the green-haired man pointed at the door with his thumb, turned his back to the florist, and walked to the door.

“See you tonight,” Jack called, it did sound a bit like a question, though.

Anti smirked back to him, and left. 

 

That night, Anti was sit on the dirty floor of his apartment. Well, if you could even call that place that. It was an abandoned flat that he invaded just so he could sleep away from the rest of the Pack. They could be really annoying at times. Besides, no one wanted to be near him if he had a nightmare. Those always got a bit... intense. He brushed his fingers through the choker around his neck absent-mindedly.

The place had unpainted walls and broken floor tiles, traces of a small living room and what could’ve been a kitchen some time ago. He got himself some drinkable water running on the pipes and got enough food from the Pack place every night to survive the next day. He slept in a dirty old mattress on the floor next to a window, not that he minded that much.

He was sit next to the mattress, looking up at his new plant that he placed on the broken window in hopes of it getting a bit of sunlight. It was almost time for his nightly encounter with Jack. Not that they ever set a specific time or anything, but they usually met in that dark alley near midnight. He traced a finger on the flower's petals as a goodbye, tried to fix his hair on the glass reflection, and walked out. 

The breeze was cold, he shuddered a bit and got on his motorcycle. The slight crash of the day before did only a crack on the headlight.  _ Whatever _ . He drove to the alley, passing by the Pack to nod them a salute. 

“Where are you going, boss?” One of them asked. The Pack had some random members each time; memorizing names was useless.

“That’s none of your business, is it?” Anti called back with a smirk, hearing laughs in response.  _ Fucking idiots _ , he though with an eye roll. 

Near the location, he parked the bike on a corner and walked under the moonlight. The sky was pretty today, full of stars, no grey clouds. He found himself actually appreciating them, looking up with calm eyes and breathing in deeply, releasing some tension on his shoulders as he exhaled.  

A sudden pain on the back of his head interrupted his peace.  _ Ow, what the fuck?  _

“You done looking at the sky?” A voice called. Anti smirked.

“Did you just throw something at me?” Anti asked, turning around.

“I wanted your attention,” Jack bat his eyelashes.

“Trust me, you got it already.”

Jack walked out of the shadows, only to immediately lunge the green-haired man against the nearby wall. Anti, caught by surprise, gasped at the impact, and looked at him with wide, green eyes. The brick wall was cold on his back, and Jack's hands were gripping the front of his jacket. He didn’t know if he was about to get kissed or knocked out unconscious. 

“Someone’s excited,” Anti smirked at him.

“I’d say that’s your fault.”

“Maybe,” Anti hums, disengaging himself from Jack's hold and pushing him back with a hard shove. Jack stumbled. Anti walked forward, nose to nose with him, forcing him to step back in time with his approach. The brown-haired man halts when they reach the opposite wall of the alley. They could go back and forth for hours.

They lock their eyes, breathing each other's breaths. Jack places his hands flat on Anti's chest, enjoying the feeling of being pressed against the wall, and moves them up slowly until they reach the back of the green-haired man’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

Anti propped his left arm on the wall, near the side of Jack's head, while his right gripped at the man's waist. They tilted their heads, deepening the kiss, tasting each other with a certain hunger they always had when they touched. Jack moaned against his lips, a deep, low sound at the base of his throat, Anti growls in response.

He pressed Jack back more, almost sandwiching him against the bricks. The florist hooked one of his legs on Anti's thigh, bringing him impossibly closer, and started to rock gently against him. They parted, breathless, smiling with flushed cheeks.

“What do you think you’re doing, flower boy?” he murmured close to his lips.

“Having fun,” Jack answered simply, “call me that again and you’ll leave with a bleeding nose.”

Anti shrugs, “I’m used to it by now,” he says, moving down the boy's neck, planting open-mouthed kisses there. Jack's eyes flutter closed with a soft groan.

“You’re easy to beat,” he brags, his breath tickling him. He feels Jack's smirk on his ear.

“Oh, am I now? Do I have to remind you who left with a busted lip the first day we met?” the brown-haired man muses.

“Beginner’s luck,” Anti dismisses, moving both of his hands slowly under Jack's shirt, nosing his collarbones with a pleased hum. The florist's stance falters for a second. “See, I know how to make you putty.”

Jack's smirk widens as he blinks innocently at him and says with a light tone, “You sure like to brag.”

“People always say I have a big mouth.”

“Time to put that into good use then, hm?”  he says.

Before Anti had any time to question it, his breath was suddenly knocked out of him due to Jack's knee slamming his gut. He doubled over with a gasp and was pushed on his knees in less than 5 seconds.

He grunted and looked up, to find blue eyes fixed on him and a very smug grin. 

Jack traced the green-haired man's lower lip with his thumb. Anti fought the urge to lick it. 

“Not so full of yourself now, are you?” Anti rolls his eyes at him, Jack snickers.

He looks at Jack’s crotch right in front of him, and he’s obviously hard. It had been so long since he got on his knees for  _ anyone _ , and he didn’t know if that’d trigger something terrible in his brain later. He inched closer and his lips parted a little subconsciously. He wanted it. Oh, how he wanted it. But he was a bit nervous.

A tap on his chin called his attention.

“Hey, we’re just messin' around. We can go back to making out, if you want to,” he offered softly, his eyes full of empathy.

Anti searches his blue eyes for a moment. Then smirks.  _ Ah, fuck it. _

He grabs Jack's zipper and brings it down, hooking up his fingers on his jeans and pulling it down just enough to do the same with his underwear and fish his cock out. It sprang up, pointing at Jack’s chin, swollen and already begging for attention. Jack sighed, finally free of his tight prison. 

“Oh, you’re a big boy,” Anti taunts, “so hard already?”, the brown-haired grips his chin harder, forcing his mouth open. A wave of arousal flushes through his body. 

“You’re in no place to talk,” Jack moved his leg forward, pressing his shin lightly against Anti's trapped erection near the ground. Anti groaned, mouth held open, with the contact, and the florist laughed.

He took Jack’s cock in hands and gave it a few strokes, before circling the head with the tip of his tongue. He focused on the taste of him, licking with more and more tongue each time. After a few moments, he closed his lips around him and started to suck steadily.

Jack moaned, softly at first and then with loud satisfaction that echoed through the very much open and dark alley. It occurred to Anti that anyone could walk on them in the middle of the night, and Jack's noises were loud enough to hear a mile away. The thought turned him on even more.

He swallowed and bobbed his head up and down, hands coming up to grip Jack's thighs firmly. At one point, Jack's hands had found his green hair and tugged them gently, but insistently— when had  _ that _ happened?—, and Anti found himself grounded with the pressure. 

As Jack got closer to his release, his hips rocked against Anti's tongue, fucking it hesitantly, guiding the man's head with his hands. By now, he was fully slumped on the cold brick walls, head tilted to the night sky; their omnipresent witness. His mouth let out the most breathtaking sounds, pushing Anti, too, over his edge. 

“A-ah! Anti, I’m gonna...I’m g-gonna cum,” he moaned.

Anti pushed forward until his nose was buried to Jack's short, thin hair on his groin, and sucked hard until he felt the warm, thick load going down his throat. 

This was a familiar sensation. His memories came flooding in.  _ Open up. Stay still. Swallow. Clean up. _

_ Good boy. _

“Anti? Are you okay?” Jack's voice came through his haze, breathless. Anti was resting his forehead on the man's thigh, breathing heavily. “Lemme help you out,” Anti looked down at his own crotch; he still hadn’t come.

Anti shook his head, then pressed himself against Jack's shin. He humped once, twice, and came with a quiet groan. Then went still, focusing on his breathing.

“I’d have touched you, you didn’t have to go like that,” Jack murmured, then noticed how Anti's hands were a bit shaky.

He raised his eyebrows and moved slowly, disengaging his leg from Anti and sitting on the ground in front of him. 

“Anti?” he whispered worriedly. Anti's distress caught him by surprise.

He raised his hand in his direction, the boy flinched. “Hey, come on. Come here, I’m sorry if I pushed you, I’d never want to upset you.”

Anti blinked. He raised a weak hand to take Jack's, who immediately pulls him delicately to sit next to him. As soon as Anti sat on the ground, he inched closer to Jack's shoulder, and the brown-haired man wrapped him in his arms.

They stayed there for a while, Jack rocking meekly, until Anti's breathing slowed down.

The green-haired man blinked again, knitting his eyebrows. He was so tired. Why was he so tired? But he was also... warm.  _ Warm? _

_ What happened? _ He thought,  _ is Jack holding me?! _

His face paled. Shit. He must’ve freaked out and acted like a total freak. He was so  _ stupid _ .

He detached from Jack and looked, embarrassed, at the floor. His cheeks burned with shame. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asked. Anti raised his eyes to look at him, blue eyes full of concern.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry, that was weird.”

“Did I push you too far?”

“No, no,” Anti rushed. “I liked it, it was great. Promise.”

Jack's frame relaxed, relieved. “Were you overwhelmed?”

“I think so. It won’t happen again, sorry.” He apologized again, slowly standing up. 

Jack stood up, he had fixed his clothes a while ago. “No need to apologize, it’s been a long day, yeah? It happens.”

Anti sighed. The streetlights outside the alley had dimmed down, it must had been very late.

“I got work, I should go,” Jack said, “but I had fun. You really  _ can _ do better with that mouth of yours.” He smirked, lightening up the mood.

Anti smiled a small smile, and steeped forward to go back to his bike. 

“I had fun too, flower boy.” He called back, and heard a huff in response. 

He walked to his parked bike on the corner, sit down and started it up, going back to his apartment.

 

They didn’t met each other for a week. Anti was embarrassed for his little freakout, and didn’t want to bother Jack anymore. He liked the guy, he really did, but he should probably just leave. Get the Pack and move on to another neighbourhood, steal stuff, get some drug deals done for money again. 

But as he found himself alone again after actually bonding with someone — and someone  _ nice _ , even!—, he got anxious about leaving. So anxious, in fact, that he couldn’t sleep for that entire week. Not that it was abnormal for him to, he  _ did _ have insomnia along with his list of problems, but this time his sleep deprived brain decided to take a walk, on bright sunlight, along the neighbourhood.

He stumbled across the streets like a drunk man, not actually seeing where he was going. He was just walking, more thanks to inertia than anything, dark, deep bags under half-lidded eyes, chapped lips and messy hair going on all directions. He was thristy, he was hungry. With his trashed clothes and this appearance, he looked like a zombie. If he stopped walking for a second, his legs would certainly give out.

Said and done. A reflected ray of sunlight blinded him for 2 entire seconds, which was enough for him to collide with a street pole — was it even there before?—, and the collision was enough to knock him out instantly, just as a voice he had heard before called his name.

 

Anti felt warm, and comfortable. Very comfortable. He felt smooth fabric against his face and over his shoulders, and his nose caught a sweet scent in the air that he couldn’t figure it out what exactly it was. He shifted, feeling his body sink further, enveloped in something solid, but soft. He let out a happy sigh. It had been so long since he laid down on any cushions...  _ cushions? _

He blinked his eyes open slowly with extreme effort, his mind still full of the sweet waters of sleep, his body refusing to move more than strictly necessary. He looked over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes— he had no strength to open them more, right now— and identified a pastel green blanket. He was resting his head over two pillows with colourful polka dots cases, his legs curled up. His heavy boots and socks were on the floor, neatly against the sofa he found himself in, his jacket over the armrest. 

Looking around, he was in somebody's living room. The space was very open and ventilated, some bookshelves on the wall, a TV, another tiny sofa. The thin curtains of a big window were closed, causing the place to have very dim lighting. The atmosphere felt nice and cozy, his tired mind not caring about where he was or why; he just gripped the blanket with his fits, bringing it to his face, rubbed his cheek against the soft material, and his eyes were closing again.

He heard steps coming at his direction, and looked up with what was left in him. His vision was blurry, but he could tell there was Jack.

“Hey, I know you need to sleep, but drink this cup of water first,” he whispered and crouched to his level.

Anti knit his eyebrows a little, making a quiet protest noise. Jack chuckled softly.

“Come on, it’ll be good for you. You’re dehydrated.” He brought the glass close to his face, where a pink straw touched his lips.

He gulped once, than twice, than desperately fast before the straw was removed from his mouth. He choked a cough. 

“Hey, hey, not so fast! Otherwise you might throw up, ya dumbass.”

The straw returned, and he gulped slowly this time, until the glass was empty. Jack made a satisfied noise.

“...’m dizzy...” he mumbled, weakly. 

Jack nodded. “Dehydration. And sleep deprivation, I’d guess.”

_ Huh _ . He had been dehydrated before on his life, but never paid much attention to it. Just drank water carelessly and threw up until it passed. His eyes fell closed against his will. He slept again.

When he woke up, there was no sunlight going through the curtains, and his stomach growled painfully. He hadn’t been eating much during that week, either. He sniffed, and smelled something delicious that only made his stomach hurt more. He curled up tight on himself with a pained sound.

“Anti?” Jack called, rushing to the sofa he was in and crouching down again. “Are you hurt? Inside, I mean. I checked to see if there were any wounds on you when I brought you in, and there was none I could see.”

His voice was quiet, and he was wearing a baggy baby blue jumper that matched his eyes perfectly. Anti shook his head.

“I'm...” he blushed.  _ Well, in for a penny in for a pound _ . “I’m hungry.” He whispered, cheeks burning pink as he looked to the side. 

Jack smiled. “I made us dinner, I was just waiting for you to wake up on your own.”

Anti shifted, propping himself up with an elbow and rubbing his eyes with his other hand, green strands of hair falling down over his eyes.

“What happened?” he croaked , standing up, bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. Jack supported his weight lightly with his arm around Anti's waist so he didn’t stumble and fall.

“You disappeared,” Jack said, walking to the kitchen, “I knew your group was still on the borders of the neighbourhood, but you were nowhere to be seen. Then Robin was going to his workshop and found you passed out on the pavement. He brought you to me, since I was wondering where you were.”

They sat down on the kitchen table, where two plates were filled with vegetable soup and a bit of spaghetti. It looked delicious. He licked his lips and started to dig in.

“I checked to see if you were hurt, and saw signs of dehydration. And, well, obviously you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“Maybe not,” Anti muttered, not looking at his eyes.

They ate in silence for a bit. Anti ate two entire plates. Jack was looking at him with a curious expression, like he was trying to solve the  complicated, walking puzzle that Anti was.

“Um...” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “thank you for, uh, caring. And for the food. And the couch...”

Jack's eyes  _ beamed _ , and that seemed to twist Anti's heartstrings in an odd angle.

“So... I’ll just... go? You’re cool.” He said, standing up from the table, ready to put his boots and jacket on to leave, just as he heard thunder outside.

He grimaced. He hated rain. Jack seemed to notice his expression, glancing at the door.

“The weather is starting to turn...” he started, “you should just crash here. The sofa is all yours.”

Anti frowns. “Rain never hurt anyone.”

“You’re gonna get soaked.”

“I’m not made of sugar, y'know.”

Jack snorts. “You’re staying here.”

Anti stops on his tracks and smirks at him.

“Or what?” Jack's grin widens.

“Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“I’m always up for some ass kicking,” Anti shrugs.

Jack sighs, then in a fatal move, changes his body language completely. Slumped shoulders, hands folded on his front, and the most unfair puppy eyes he had ever seen in his entire life. Then he says in a delicate, soft voice, “Please, stay?” 

Anti sighed, a long, suffering sound. He was tired, he was warm, and didn’t want to catch a cold in the rain. Colds were always annoying. His resolve crumpled instantly.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Jack’s usual stance came back in a click. He smiled. “I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, you can use it, if you want to. You can also shower,” he offered

Anti nodded. Jack pointed at the bathroom’s direction and started cleaning up the kitchen plates.

The green-haired man wandered across the hallway, the bathroom was white and had tiny plant vases at the window. In fact, his entire house seemed to be covered in them, in the corner of the rooms, in the kitchen balcony, all over the windows. 

He took a quick, but warm shower, washing his hair with Jack's shampoo. He smelled like roses now.  _ Nerd _ . He dried himself with a hanged spare towel, wrapping it around his waist, and brushed his teeth, putting his black choker back on his neck. He always felt... weird, without it. He almost never took it off. The bathroom door was knocked.

“I have some spare clothes,” Jack said. 

Anti opened the door and took them, Jack's eyes flickered across his naked torso, and the man's cheeks went red. Anti smirked, even if he was a little bit self-conscious about all of the scars on his stomach, arms, back. 

“Nice... tattoo,” Jack said, pointing at the one on the outside of his left peck, a skull with a knife across, dissolving into glitches. That was his personal favourite one, too.

“Thanks,” he replied, cheeks already pink from the shower going even hotter. Jack stared for a second more, then cleared his throat, saying he’d be outside.

Anti took the clean grey underwear and black, baggy sweatpants, and put a big, pastel green jumper over his head. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was slightly taller than Jack, but the brown-haired man had bulkier shoulders, which made the jumper even comfier. He fixed his wet hair with his hands and went to the living room, to find Jack tidying up his little sleeping cot.

Jack raised his eyes to meet him, and smiled a shy smile. “The jumper matches your hair. And your eyes.”

Anti blushed. Compliments were foreign to him. “Thanks,” he mumbled, flustered.

“Well, I don’t have to patrol tonight, so I’m gonna sleep. Fell at home, I can wake you up for breakfast, then you can leave whenever you want to,” he explained. Anti glanced around.

“Where are my clothes?”

Jack smirked, full of mischief. “In the wash.”

“Then how am I supposed to leave tomorrow morning?”

Jack pretended to ponder, with a theatrical “ _ Hmm _ ”. 

“I guess you’ll have to stay until they’re dry!” he chirped, “good night, Anti.” He called back, turning around to go to his room.

Anti stared blankly at the spot Jack moved from.  _ What is my life? _

He yawned and made himself comfortable in the soft cushions on the sofa, nuzzling the big pillow subconsciously. He pulled the cover to his chin.

“Good night, Jack.” He whispered to the room.

He closed his eyes, falling quickly asleep. 

 

The smell of coffee dragged him out of the warm waves of sleep. He knit his eyebrows, forcing his brain to wake up completely.

“He’s kinda cute, when he’s not trying to kill anyone,” a voice said. His eyes fired open in fright, to see a different brown-haired man on the other sofa, looking intently at him.

“Robin, you woke him up!” Jack chided, in a rushed tone.

“He was already waking up,” Robin said dismissively, then noticed the slight panic look on Anti's face, and softened his voice. “Sorry.”

Anti rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly. His head throbbed. He felt better than last night, but he was still a bit dizzy. He groaned quietly, cradling his head.

“Here, drink it.” Jack gave him another glass of water.

“Is he one of your plants now?” Robin joked.

Jack nodded. “I’m pretty sure he’s a cactus.”

“He  _ does _ act like a cactus!” 

They both snickered, Anti rolled his eyes as he gulped, smiling a small smile. 

“What kind of cactus, though?” Jack wondered

“From what I’ve seen, the grabby ones,” Robin eyed them suggestively. Anti blushes. 

“ _ Chollas _ .” Jack nodded.

“What?” Anti intervened, his glass was empty already.

“Those cacti that kind of jump on you when you walk near them, they’re called  _ jumping Chollas _ ,” Jack clarified.

“And why would they do that?”

“ The name comes from the ease of which the stems detach when brushed. If you get close to them, they’ll stay on your clothes. This also helps them to spread their species around with the animals that pass by.” 

Anti raised his eyebrows. “Do you have them in your shop?”

Jack shook his head, chuckling, “No, silly, they’re wild. Not practical to have around, either.”

“Oh,” the green-haired man said, then squinted accusingly, “and how do you know about all of that?”

Robin giggled, “Oh, that’s nothing compared with the stuff he knows, he’s a total nerd.”

Jack took one of his socks off his foot and shoot it at Robin's face. The man didn’t even flinch. 

“He’s got a degree on botanics.” Robin explained.

Anti stared.  _ Wow _ . “Hardcore,” he mocked, getting Jack's other sock thrown at his face. He scowled as Robin bursted out laughing. His stomach growled again.

“Let’s eat some breakfast, yeah?” Jack said, expression a bit concerned.

“Are you babysitting the punk now?” Robin mused. Anti recoiled on himself before he could think about it. The tech-guy's expression faltered. “I’m just joking, dude. You got me pretty worried when I found you out in the pavement.”

The green-haired man huffed, “Yeah, that was pretty pathetic.”

“It was stupid,” Jack agreed, helping him to stand up and walking to the kitchen, “why didn’t your friends go looking for you?”

“They’re not my friends,” he blurted, then cleared his throat awkwardly, “it’s just business.”

Jack hums, and gets Anti some more water, saying how he shouldn’t put caffeine in his systems right now. “Do you want bacon, or something? I only made scrambled eggs, but it’d be no bother,” he offered him.

Anti scrunched his nose in a grimace. “I don’t eat meat, but thank you.” The taste of meat always made him sick, for some reason. It made him feel something... strange, that he couldn’t quite place.

Jack nodded and handed him a big plate full of the eggs. Anti devoured it in less than 5 minutes.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, Jack went to work and instructed Anti to sleep some more until he came back for his lunch break. Anti just napped comfortably for hours, no objections made.

As noon approached, Jack handed Anti his street clothes, wearing his own for a night of patrolling. He looked badass as always, ready to break some noses or fuck in an alley. 

“I recommend you to take it easy tonight, we can meet tomorrow, or whenever,” Jack said, the phrase sounding more like a question than a suggestion.

Anti grinned. “I’ll see you later.”

He stepped out of the door, cold breeze messing up his hair.

“I’ll keep an eye on you, you fuckin' cactus,” Jack called. Anti turned his head back to wink at him.

He went to his crappy apartment, watering his slowly dying white flower. 

Maybe he should get a cactus instead. 

_ Next time _ , he thinks, and he actually means it.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Trashcansasha's](http://trashcansasha.tumblr.com) drawings related to this part of the story! |[1](https://trashcansasha.tumblr.com/post/173301640132/if-you-allow-me-to-bother-you-plutonic-5-the)| |[2](https://trashcansasha.tumblr.com/post/173353367932/this-just-in-soft-boys-in-love-are-killing-me-and)| |[3](https://trashcansasha.tumblr.com/post/174211830207/sorry-for-not-posting-much-of-my-art-these-days)| |[4](https://trashcansasha.tumblr.com/post/173454780712/woops-ref-sheets-for-that-infamous-bikerau-no-one)| |[5](https://trashcansasha.tumblr.com/post/173841153597/bad-boy-anti-kitten-sneezing-yes)| |[6](https://trashcan-dirt.tumblr.com/post/175382647426/ehhhh-no-sfw-sorry-also-its-literally-a-scene)|
> 
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> [My Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/plutonic-5)


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